His Only Regrets
by Buckhunter The Race Horse
Summary: Post final season of Star Wars Rebels. One-shot. Ezra Bridger went through a lot in his nineteen years of his life; he struggled as a pickpocket and thief on the streets of Lothal and fought back against a cruel Empire. He had few regrets, and each were painful reminders of all he had lost. But, he still thrives anyway. These are the only regrets of Ezra Bridger.


_**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars Rebels. That would be Disney and Lucasfilm for ya. This story also contains SPOILERS for the end of Star Wars Rebels.**_

**OptimusPrime2017 presents to you,**

**A Star Wars Rebels Fanfiction:**

**His Only Regrets**

He'd returned as soon as he could- years after victory had been accomplished. Now nineteen years old, he'd studied for months in the old Jedi Temple on Coruscant. After his master's passing, he didn't know if other Jedi were left; he'd heard of the deaths of both old Kenobi and Grand Master Yoda. He'd resolved to learn as much as he could, and maybe to even take on his own apprentice.

Over the months of his holocron archive studying, he's learned many things. Not just different things he could do with the Force, but of the past Jedi. He learned of Darth Vader's past self, the talented Jedi Knight he had been. He'd even learned more about Ahsoka Tano's past. But, most importantly, he learned who his own master once was.

Kanan Jarrus. Caleb Dume.

Someone had updated the archives in the recent years; updated them to show Kanan's role in the rebellion and bringing justice. Someone had even updated them on what had occurred during his and his own master's mission during Order 66.

And this just added to the great amount of respect that he had for the man; for the Jedi Master; for the father of a good friend.

Every day he remembered what had happened to him- the explosion and how he saved everyone else; how he sacrificed himself for Hera and the rest of the Ghost crew. It pained him. The moment of the scene replayed itself in his mind several times daily, a constant reminder of how he hadn't helped or tried to save him; a constant reminder of how he had let his master down.

But most of all, he remembered how he had met him, oh, so long ago now. He'd been a pickpocket and a thief, using what he could steal as his means of survival. He'd intercepted the small group and delayed their mission; stolen a couple of cargo crates as his own. Of course, his former master had tried to stop him and hadn't succeeded, having lost his ride.

The young man couldn't help but to give a small smile whenever he remembered that moment. It was the one that had determined his destiny, after all. His destiny had always been to fight alongside the Ghost crew and the rebellion; to save Lothal and the galaxy from the Empire- to avenge his parents' deaths.

He only had few regrets: Kanan's death, being unable to save his parents, and, most of all, not returning to his friends after he had successfully rid the galaxy of Grand Admiral Thrawn. Though there hadn't been much to do about the last one at all- he'd been stuck aboard the destroyed ship for months before he finally reached an area of other planets. He'd been able to use the damaged communications systems to get in contact with the planet's security and had them send up a ship to take him down to land. He'd been there for a couple of years- maybe three- before he was able to get passage off, to Coruscant. He had no means of communicating with or finding his friends. So, he'd simply resorted to learning as much as he could.

It was rare that he ever talked to anyone; hardly anyone visited the remains of the Jedi Temple. His throat would often be in need of being cleared, due to the lack of communication. But it was worth the time, all of the knowledge he learned over the last few years. He'd gained more respect for his Jedi ancestors upon knowing the lengths they'd go to in order to protect others. He'd even tried to imagine what it had been like, in the golden days of the Republic.

But he felt that something was missing; his friends. He only stayed sane because of the memories of them. They had always been there for each other, in good times and bad. They hadn't even known him, and still went back for him after Garazeb had left him behind once. That was something he could never repay them for. He remembered how he and Zeb had stolen a TIE Fighter together and how they swore not to tell the others.

Those were the tough times; the good times too. And, oh, how he missed them.

So he, the young man he was- Ezra Bridger, promised himself one final thing; that he would one day return to Lothal and the Ghost crew; his family.


End file.
